Death's face is impassive, but I still got the impression she is glowering at me. She didn't say a thing, but reached out and handed me The Coin^TM .
I remember the first time I was handed The Coin^TM. The encounter was not what I expected. I thought I was supposed to take the coin in my mouth and give it to a ferry man who would carry me into the underworld. I guessed the stories were wrong.
She explained that if I could flip the coin and guess what side it would land on, I could go back in a healthy body with an age of my choosing. It was pure luck that first time. I was honestly surprised that there was not some trick to it, but somehow I won, and I woke up afresh at the age I was imagining.
Clearly, I couldn't let the second time to be chance..., but it was too. Those times were brutal, and I quickly died again.
The third time though... my eyes were open, the stories the priests told us were all wrong. I knew that now, but they could perform miracles, right? If they were lying about the stories, maybe they were lying about those miracles too. I had to find out. I had to learn their tricks. I joined the temple of Apollo as a devout. I gained their trust. I rose in the ranks. I devoted my self to the task, because I knew that as much as I hated this way of living, if I could learn what I needed, I would have all the time in the world.
And I learned. I learned how to make stones float and move by boiling water and using the steam that rose from it. I learned how to make things appear and disappear with my hands and by drawing people's attention toward the wrong things. But no one knew the secret I needed, how to predict a coin flip.
But I had this whole new vocabulary now, so I bent my mind to the task in private. This one trick had to be just for me. Eventually, I stumbled on the secret. A way to throw a coin aloft so that it wobbled just right to appear as if it was spinning, but to never actually switching sides. Once I could fool my own eyes, I tested on people. I even bet my own life once or twice. I was ready.
So, the third time and all the subsequent ones? They always came up the way I wanted. I make sure to alternate sides, but I always know.
I eventually asked death his name only to learn he was a she. At first she was amused, and we would chat for a bit before I flipped The Coin^TM , but I think she suspects. She just doesn't know how. That's how convincing my "flip" is. We don't argue about it anymore though. When I first stumbled upon the new mathematical concept of statistics I made sure to understand it. When she said what I did was impossible, I learned to say, "no, it is extremely unlikely, but each flip has the same 50/50 chance. Unlikely does not mean impossible." I eventually added, "you know some day, I'm sure my coin will come up too."
And it will. I don't think I'll want to live forever. But I am still not bored of living.
"Beatrice, before I flip, could we have some tea? I know that my luck irks you, but I hate to admit, you are the only constant I have left, and well, I value your friendship."
JackNotName t1_j0z6fie wrote
Reply to [WP] When you die, you are given the chance to flip a coin. If you call the flip correctly, you are allowed to continue living, while resetting to the age of your choice. You’ve been doing this for a couple centuries now. Death is starting to get pissed. by XantosZ
"Oh hi, Beatrice. What did me in this time?"
Death's face is impassive, but I still got the impression she is glowering at me. She didn't say a thing, but reached out and handed me The Coin^TM .
I remember the first time I was handed The Coin^TM. The encounter was not what I expected. I thought I was supposed to take the coin in my mouth and give it to a ferry man who would carry me into the underworld. I guessed the stories were wrong.
She explained that if I could flip the coin and guess what side it would land on, I could go back in a healthy body with an age of my choosing. It was pure luck that first time. I was honestly surprised that there was not some trick to it, but somehow I won, and I woke up afresh at the age I was imagining.
Clearly, I couldn't let the second time to be chance..., but it was too. Those times were brutal, and I quickly died again.
The third time though... my eyes were open, the stories the priests told us were all wrong. I knew that now, but they could perform miracles, right? If they were lying about the stories, maybe they were lying about those miracles too. I had to find out. I had to learn their tricks. I joined the temple of Apollo as a devout. I gained their trust. I rose in the ranks. I devoted my self to the task, because I knew that as much as I hated this way of living, if I could learn what I needed, I would have all the time in the world.
And I learned. I learned how to make stones float and move by boiling water and using the steam that rose from it. I learned how to make things appear and disappear with my hands and by drawing people's attention toward the wrong things. But no one knew the secret I needed, how to predict a coin flip.
But I had this whole new vocabulary now, so I bent my mind to the task in private. This one trick had to be just for me. Eventually, I stumbled on the secret. A way to throw a coin aloft so that it wobbled just right to appear as if it was spinning, but to never actually switching sides. Once I could fool my own eyes, I tested on people. I even bet my own life once or twice. I was ready.
So, the third time and all the subsequent ones? They always came up the way I wanted. I make sure to alternate sides, but I always know.
I eventually asked death his name only to learn he was a she. At first she was amused, and we would chat for a bit before I flipped The Coin^TM , but I think she suspects. She just doesn't know how. That's how convincing my "flip" is. We don't argue about it anymore though. When I first stumbled upon the new mathematical concept of statistics I made sure to understand it. When she said what I did was impossible, I learned to say, "no, it is extremely unlikely, but each flip has the same 50/50 chance. Unlikely does not mean impossible." I eventually added, "you know some day, I'm sure my coin will come up too."
And it will. I don't think I'll want to live forever. But I am still not bored of living.
"Beatrice, before I flip, could we have some tea? I know that my luck irks you, but I hate to admit, you are the only constant I have left, and well, I value your friendship."